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Knight Letter 

NUMBER 61 FALL 1999 

Proudly Presents 





A Ballad Opera 

for the Marionette Theatre 


Lewis Carroll 






Jmmmt i i ■ i i i 


Introduction to La Guida diBragia 

by Peter L. Heath 

As the eldest son, and only talented member of a 
brood of eleven children, it was more or less inevitable that 
the young Charles Dodgson would end up as the family 
entertainer. He was no athlete, and had no great turn for 
music, so nothing is heard of him captaining cricket teams or 
leading domestic choirs; but throughout his teens at Croft 
Rectory he seems to have been constantly occupied in 
putting on conjuring or magic lantern shows, editing and 
largely writing a succession of family magazines, and getting 
up charades and amateur theatricals. He was clever with his 
hands, made toys and models for his sisters, and in due course 
improvised a make-believe "railway" in the rectory garden, 
with the aid of a wheelbarrow, a barrel and two or three small 
trucks. There were "stations", "booking offices" and 
"refreshment rooms", and an elaborate code of regulations, 
in which the pompous tone of 
officialdom was duly caught and 
mocked. A photograph of the lay- 
out appears in S.D. Collingwood's 
Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll, 
and a drawing of the train itself in 
Brenda Matheson's Lewis Carroll 
around the North (Darlington, 
n.d.). Unless hauled by the 
inventor, or pushed by the 
passengers, it is hard to see how 
locomotion of any sort was 
accomplished; but the game was 
very popular with the family. 

This enthusiasm for 
railways — endemic in small boys 
anyway — was certainly no 
accident among the Dodgsons. 
Croft, on the Tees, lay only four 
miles from the famous Stockton & 
Darlington line, where George 
Stephenson, in 1825, had established the world's first 
passenger-carrying service. By 1845, Croft could boast its 
own station, on the main line to York, and by that time — or 
soon after — the country as a whole had over 6,500 miles of 
track, more than anywhere else but the United States. "Puffing 
Billy" and his like had been left behind, and trains were 
travelling at up to 60 miles an hour. The young Dodgsons 
were children of the railway age and knew all about its 
splendours and miseries. Once their father had added the 
Archdeaconry of Richmond and a canonry at Ripon to his 
parish duties, commuting back and forth became a regular 
experience, and Charles saw even more of it (via Birmingham) 
on his way to and from Rugby School. 

At some point during this period (around 1850) he 
enlisted the help of the village carpenter in building a home 
marionette theatre, and was soon putting on performances, 
not only for his brothers and sisters, but for an equally large 
contingent of cousins, the Wilcoxes, who lived at Whitburn, 
further north. As is mentioned in the Diaries (for 1853), it 

Outside of one appearance in an English 
magazine in 1931, La Guida di Bragia, a 
playscript for marionettes by the teenaged 
Charles Dodgson, has not appeared in print. 
Wishing to make this amusing piece of 
juvenilia available to the modern public, the 
Lewis Carroll Society of North America has 
chosen the Knight Letter for the initial venue. 
We are very pleased to be able to present it 
with an introduction by the eminent scholar 
and LCSNA President-emeritus Peter L. Heath 
and most charming drawings by our own 
Jonathan Dixon. A separate publication, 
doing better justice to the illustrations and 
with ancillary material, is also being planned. 
We are most grateful to August Imholtz for 
arranging the keyboarding of the text and to 
Morton Cohen for suggesting the project. 

was something of a problem to find suitable material; the 
existing repertory was either too dull or inappropriate for 
children and so Charles took to writing his own pieces. The 
Tragedy of King John, which has not survived, was reputedly 
the best of them, and there is allusion to another, also lost; a 
third, on Alfred the Great, was probably never written, but 
somewhere in the series occurs our present work, La Guida 
di Bragia, a railway saga, whose opening pages recall King 
John and his tragedy. It was, needless to say, the loss of his 
baggage-train in the Wash, in 1216. The latter — it should 
perhaps be explained — is a broad tidal indentation on the 
east coast of England, between Norfolk and Lincolnshire. 
The royal party forded it without mishap, but the baggage- 
train behind them was engulfed by the incoming tide. The 
King died (of annoyance, largely) a few days later, and the 
episode has been the subject of bad jokes ever since. King 
John, as we also know from the Diaries, was performed again, 
as late as 11th April, 1855. 

How or why La Guida 
di Bragia survived is not 
known. The manuscript 
surfaced, presumably from the 
family archives, only when it 
was sold at Sotheby's 
("property of Major C.H.W. 
Dodgson") on 14th February, 
1 929, and fetched the good price 
of £570. Two years later it was 
published in a Christmas number 
of The Queen (Vol. clxx, no. 4430, 
1 8th November 1 93 1 ), but has not 
otherwise been reprinted. The 
Nonesuch Complete Works and 
other large anthologies include 
no more than the 18-line 
prologue — which would do 
equally well for any other 
marionette performance — and 
only the biographies by Anne 
Clark and Michael Bakewell supply a few extracts and a 
summary of the plot. Elsewhere La Guida gets little beyond 
a passing mention and despite the publication of other 
juvenilia of no greater merit, has remained effectively in limbo. 
The neglect of it is strange, for though nobody could call it a 
masterpiece, it is, after all, the sole extant specimen of a 
Carrollian play. The only known performance of it in recent 
times was given by Denis and Mary Crutch, before the 
Daresbury branch of the Lewis Carroll Society in November 
1972. By then the manuscript had visited the saleroom on 
two more occasions, in 1947 and 195 1, before finally coming 
to rest in the Berol Collection at New York University. 

As for the marionette theatre, its fate is as unknown 
as that of King John. On 14th November, 1928, a toy theatre, 
purporting to have descended in the Dodgson family, was 
sold for £10 at Sotheby's by a relative, Mrs Parrington, who 
had been given it in 1901 by one of the Dodgson sisters. At 
the time it was taken to be authentic, but a later investigation 

by Mr Crutch (Jabberwocky, Spring 1973) proved it to be a 
commercial product of German origin, made by Adolf Engel 
of Berlin, and dating from the 1 880's. As such, and whatever 
the soundness of its provenance, it cannot have been used 
to stage La Guida di Bragia, and the chances that it was 
ever operated by Dodgson seem decidedly remote. It was 
bought at the sale by one J.C. Brigham, a Darlington antique 
dealer, for his "children's museum". He died in 1935, and his 
effects were dispersed to booksellers in the region, so even 
this doubtful relic of Dodgsonian theatrical history is now 
completely lost. 

La Guida di Bragia — the title is a pseudo-operatic 
rendering of the famous railway guide published by George 
Bradshaw from 1841 onwards, and generally known simply 
as "Bradshaw" — is neither so early and immature as it is 
said to be by the Lewis Carroll Handbook, nor so grandiose 
and professional as the "three-act comic 
opera" alluded to by Professor Morton 
Cohen. It is divided, to be sure, into three 
little acts, and has musical interludes 
with tunes borrowed from Italian opera 
or popular sources, in the manner of a 
"ballad opera", such as it actually claims 
to be. But its ramshackle structure is 
equally reminiscent of the traditional 
English pantomime, whose moth-eaten 
routines, corny jokes and topical 
allusions still grace, or disgrace, the 
boards of London and provincial 
theatres at Christmastime, ostensibly for 
the entertainment of children. In La 
Guida, as in Mother Goose, Robinson 
Crusoe or Dick Whittington, there is no 
plot to speak of, and the main characters 
strongly resemble the knockabout 
brokers' men, principal boy and girl, and vulgar elderly dame 
en travesti, who traditionally steals the show. Mrs Muddle, 
who combines the erratic lexicon of Sheridan's Mrs Malaprop 
with the lower-class mispronunciation of Dickens' Sairey 
Gamp, does exactly that, and provides a welcome relief to the 
inane cross-talk of Mooney and Spooney, who themselves 
owe something, perhaps, to the famous old farce of Box & 
Cox, by J.M. Morton ( 1 847). Their sudden transmogrification 
into "Moggs & Spicer" bears all the marks of a family in-joke, 
though not at the expense of Messrs Marks & Spencer, whose 
chain-store emporium is of much later date. If Moggs & Spicer 
was the name of a local grocer's, ironmonger's or mercer's 
business in Croft or Darlington, the point would be clearer 
(and perhaps funnier) than it now is. 

As disgraced courtiers of King John, and newly- 
appointed railway officials, Mooney and Spooney control 
the action, most of which occurs on a station platform, and 
consists in little more than the other characters rushing about 
losing luggage and missing or misboarding their trains. Apart 
from the absence of an unintelligible public address system, 
the prevailing angst is no different from that of a modern 
terminus or airport, though it is a little surprising to find that 

baggage insurance and the electric telegraph were already in 
use at this relatively early stage. The likeliest explanation for 
the appearance of such otherwise unmotivated characters as 
the Kaffir and the Lost Huntsman is that unemployed figures 
in the marionette-box were available to play them. Lost 
huntsmen, if not kaffirs, would in any case have been a regular 
phenomenon around Croft, a one-time spa which possessed, 
near the Rectory, a sizeable hotel that was patronized by 
hunting people. 

In other respects, La Guida reflects many of the 
influences and predilections that equally inform the juvenile 
periodicals — The Rectory Magazine, The Rectory Umbrella, 
Mischmasch and so on — which Dodgson was producing at 
about the same period (1850). There is the same interest in 
food, the same fondness for word-play, the same love of 
Shakespearean parody. Bradshaw's soliloquy, as reported 
by Mooney in Act II, Scene 2, is an arrant 
spoof of Mark Anthony's funeral oration 
in Julius Caesar; "Spooney hath 
murdered singing" echoes Macbeth; and 
the name of Orlando, for the lucklessy'ewwe 
premier, is presumably stolen from As You 
Like It. By a strange coincidence, 
Bradshaw, A Mystery, published in Punch 
in 1856, also had an Orlando for its hero, 
though the two pieces are otherwise 
unconnected. The unlikely choice of 
"Sophonisba" for the heroine can only 
have come from the tragedy of that name, 
published by James Thomson in 1 730. She 
was the daughter of Hasdrubal, the 
Carthaginian general, had a blighted love- 
affair with the Nubian prince, Masinissa, 
who was on the Roman side, and took 
poison, as tragic heroines are prone to do. 
Thomson's play is remembered only for its famously awful 
line: "Oh! Sophonisba, Sophonisba, Oh!" which was parodied 
in Fielding's Tom Thumb, and ridiculed by Johnson with: "O 
Jemmy Thomson! Jemmy Thomson!" Where young Dodgson 
got hold of it, who knows? In his version, at all events, it is 
Orlando, rather than Sophonisba, who seems the likelier 
candidate for poisoning, thanks to the household 
mismanagement of his wife. Parodies of familiar ditties — 
"Auld Lang Syne" and "Home, Sweet Home" among them — 
are a recurrent feature of the exchanges between the two. As 
upper-class characters, they communicate mainly in verse, 
whereas the lower orders (as in Shakespeare) favour prose. 
Mooney, however, knows fake-Shakespeare when he hears 
it, and himself quotes Thomas Campbell ("Coming events 
cast their shadows before.") Even Mrs Muddle breaks into 
verse, in her lament for lost luggage at the end of Act III, 
Scene 1 , as does Sara Jane, the cook; so the divide is not an 
absolute one. Bradshaw, the deus ex machina — a sort of 
irritable railway Jehovah, who makes unreasonable demands 
of his servants, punishes their defiance by inconveniencing 
everybody all round, and piously calls the mess "justice" — 
is solemnly Shakespearean throughout. 

In a work so full of echoes, it is equally tempting to 
hunt for premonitions and parallels to the later writings. One 
such, at least, occurs just where it might be expected, in the 
railway scene from Through the Looking-Glass. Alice, like 
Orlando, causes trouble by attempting to travel without a 
ticket. In both cases the suggested resolution — that the 
culprit be sent as a parcel — is exactly the same, though in 
neither case is it actually carried out. A more general 
resemblance between La Guida and the Alice books may be 
seen in their willingness to mingle elements from the feudal 
and the industrial periods of English history. Alice may travel 
by train, misquote Southey or Wordsworth, and bop 
inoffensive rabbits into Victorian cucumber-frames, but for 
much of the time she is forced to contend with the mediaeval 
monarchs, the knaves and knights, of the card-table and 
chessboard, plus an ancient duchess and sundry heraldic 
figures from an equally bygone age. Mooney and Spooney 
do it the other way round, stepping blithely from the reign of 
King John into the middle of the 1 9th century, and contributing 
their fair share of chaos and incompetence to both. 

The pantomimes, of course, are replete with such 
historical incongruities, and so too, for that matter, is the 
pantomime of English public life. The Queen, for example, on 
the rare occasions when she pretends for a few minutes to be 
actually running the country, travels to Parliament not in a 
limousine like a rational Head of State, but in a creaking 
conveyance from the days of Queen Anne. She is attended 
en route by a troop of horsemen, clad for the Crimean War, 
and seemingly unaware that their military usefulness ended 
in 1 86 1 with the invention of the Gatling gun. The world calls 
it "pageantry", but that is hardly the right term for it. Such 
persons are not engaged in historical make-believe, or 
attempting to re-enact the past, as a pageant does; they are 
continuing, for ceremonial purposes, to do in real life what 
would only make sense if they were living much earlier than 
they actually are. The basic absurdity of official behaviour, 
its ritual adherence to protocol and regulation in defiance of 
commonsense, is a favourite target of Dodgson's satire, not 
only in the early writings, but above all in the two Alices - at 
whose climaxes, indeed, the Kings and Queens are summarily 
brought to order, and exposed for the wood and pasteboard 
images of authority which is all that they really are. 

Though he joked about Queen Victoria in his letters 
to children, Dodgson in his own life was more outwardly 
respectful of royalty than the contumacious Alice, and a little 
too prone, perhaps, to enjoy his occasional contacts with 
such prominent noblemen as Lord Salisbury, the Prime 
Minister, and even the drunken lordlings of Christ Church. 
The patronage of the great had its attractions, as did the 
country-house life he depicted in Sylvie and Bruno; but he 
did not fawn or grovel to his betters, any more than he allowed 
himself to be lionized by the general public. By keeping his 
distance from both worlds, he avoided their dangers, and 
was able to regulate his own rather obsessive existence in 
the fashion that suited him best. Had they followed his 
example, the careers of those two inept functionaries, 
Mooney and Spooney, might have been less checkered than 
they were. 

PROLOGUE. Webster. 

Scene : Green curtain at back - green floor - green paper 

Draw up P. curtain. 

Shall soldiers tread the murderous path of war, 

Without a notion what they do it for? 

Shall pallid mercers drive a roaring trade, 

And sell the stuffs their hands have never made? 

And shall not we, in this our mimic scene, 

Be all that better actors e'er have been? 

Awake again a Kemble's tragic tone, 

And make a Liston's humour all our own? 

Or vie with Mrs. Siddons in the art 

To rouse the feelings and to charm the heart? 

While Shakespeare's self, with all his ancient fires, 

Lights up the forms that tremble on our wires? 

Why can't we have, in theatres ideal, 

The good, without the evil, of the real? 

Why may not Marionettes be just as good 

As larger actors made of flesh and blood? 

Presumptuous thought! to you and your applause 

In humbler confidence we trust our cause. 

Draw down P. curtain. 


Scene : Black hangings - country scenery behind - green 
Present : Mooney and Spooney with lanterns. 

Put out lights. 
Draw up P. curtain, and change for W. light lamp. 

Mooney: Who's you? 

Spooney: Why, me. 

Mooney: Nonsense, it can't be, what's your name? 

Spooney: Oh, that's quite another question: I shan't tell. 

Mooney: Yet there is something familiar in those tones; 
something which recalls to my memory visions of earlier and 
happier days. Speak, speak! have you the mark of a grid-iron 
on the back of your left wrist? 

Spooney: No! certainly not; nothing of the sort! 

Mooney: Then you are my long-lost friend, my Spooney. 

Spooney: My Mooney! (They embrace.) 

Spooney: Ah! the joy of this meeting; this does indeed repay 
me for hours of 'owling, days of despair and nights of 
gnawing sorrow, for weeks of wailing and - 1 may add - for 
fortnights of frowning, and months of making faces; Mooney, 
I am happy! My friend! 

Mooney: My Spooney, there are moments - 

Spooney: Yes, yes, Mooney! it's quite true! there are bolsters. 

Mooney: Nonsense, Spooney, how can you talk so? I said 

"moments" - let me proceed: there are moments, my dear 

friend, when I find it impossible to express my 'orrid feelings! 
Spooney: Yes, I feel it so, too! It's the same with me! There 

are moments when I find it impossible to press on my orange 


Mooney: Oh Spooney, Spooney, in the gravest and saddest 

moments, how can you thus intrude your absurd remarks? 

Be sensible, Spooney! 
Spooney: Mooney, I will! Believe me, believe me, 1 will! Why 

do I meet you here? Have you left the king, that best and 

dearest of monarchs? 
Mooney: I have, my friend, yet not willingly. He dismissed 


Spooney: And wherefore? 
Mooney: A mere pleasantry, an innocent joke, which a friend 

would have pardoned, and even he would have done so, if- 

Spooney, did you observe lately in our dear sovereign a 

marked, a decided alteration? 
Spooney: I did, Mooney. I know what you allude to, his hair. 

Yes, Mooney, his hair became as white as - as - as white. 
Mooney: True, but I did not mean his hair: mark me. 
Spooney: I will. 
Mooney: The king lost his luggage, as you are aware, 

Spooney: He did. 
Mooney: And with his luggage, Spooney, he lost- his temper! 

Spooney: Woe's me! woe's me! are you sure of it? 
Mooney: Sartin; it happened thus: The king was sitting, 

surrounded by his courtiers, as usual, and was remarking in 

his own light way, "My clothes, my good friends, are not yet 

returned; they are all gone to the Wash." I, standing at .a 

little distance, remarked in an undertone: "And much they 

needed it. " You know my habit, Spooney, of making amusing 

Spooney: No, indeed, Mooney; you never made one yet in 

my recollection. 
Mooney: Well, sir, the king turned upon me and, in a voice a 

pig tied by the hind leg might have envied, said: "Traitor, 

begone! I renounce ye!" 
Spooney: No! did he really? And did you go? 
Mooney: Didn't I just! 
Spooney: Well I never! How very unfortunate! Do you know 

/ was passing by the door at the moment and overheard 

your remark, and I thought it so good that I resolved to 

repeat it! 

Mooney: You weren't such an idiot as that, were you? 
Spooney: I was, my dear Mooney, I assure you! I went in 

immediately after and said: "Your Majesty has lost your 

luggage, have you not?" "Yes," said the king, in accents of 

the deepest sadness, "I lost it all when - when I went to the 

Wash." "Did your Majesty go to the Wash?" I enquired. He 

answered, "I did." Whereupon I remarked with a smile, "And 

much you needed it! " 
Mooney: I never heard anything half as foolish! And what 

did the king say? 
Spooney: Why, sir, he turned upon me and said in a voice 

that - that a pig's hind leg might have envied, "Traitor, 

begone! I pronounce ye!" 
Mooney: Stuff! I don't believe a word of it! 
Spooney: But I assure you he did, and I - went away 

Mooney: And since that day you have been, I suppose, 

Spooney: Yes, my dear Mooney; but you, what have you 

been doing these many years? 
Mooney: Oh, I've been (singing) ' 
Wandering through the wide world, seeking of my 

But as I couldn't find it, I was forced to do without it. 
And if you'll believe me, there was no one would receive 

But as I never told you a lie, you've got no cause to 
doubt it. 
Spooney: How particularly nicely you do sing, my dear 

Mooney! What kind of voice do you call yours? 
Mooney: Oh, don't you know, Spooney? Why it's an alto- 

soprano-mezzo-tinto-basso-relievo - 
Spooney: No, but is it all that really? 
Mooney: As sure as you're standing there - 
Spooney: Well, that's very curious, I shouldn't have thought 

Mooney: Well; but now, Mooney, we must devise some plan 

to make our living, and put an end to this "Wandering, etc." 

(As before.) 

Spooney: Let me think awhile. (Pause.) 
Mooney: See, the morning breaks! (Black scenes removed, 
lamp put behind; singing of birds.) 
Spooney: Mooney! I've an idea! 

Mooney: Have you really? In all the years, my Spooney, that 
we have been acquainted such an incident has never 
occurred before. 

Spooney: The railway station near here has vacancies for 
station-master and for clerk. Let us apply for them. You'd 
better be station-master, as you're not so stupid as I am; 
you are more foolish than I, you know, my Mooney, but 
you're certainly not so stupid. 

Mooney: True, true, my dear friend. A very good idea, I'll go 
and apply at once. (Exit.) 

Spooney (soliloquises): Poor Mooney! He's not much of a 
genius, but he means well! He is an honest fellow, and I'll do 
what I can for him! Yes, yes, he'll do best for station-master! 
He's more foolish than I am, but he's certainly not so stupid! 
Ha! here he comes! What success, my Mooney? 
Mooney: All right! we've got it. (Singing.) 2 
Oh my eye, what jolly fun, only think what we've been 
and done. 
They've made us railway horficers, and we've got a 
railway station! 
Day and night, and night and day, we'll do the work and 
call it play. 
When one's awake the other sleeps, in regular rotation! 
Spooney: Ebenezer Mooney-o, and Julius Caesar Spooney- 
o, they've made us railway horficers, and we've got a railway 
Mooney: "Oh my eye, etc." (As before.) 

Scene : Coloured paper carpet. 

Present : Orlando and Sophonisba - the former with carpet 

Relight candles. 
Draw up W. curtain, and change for G. 

Orlando: My Sophonisba! 
Sophonisba: My Orlando! (Repeat.) 
Orlando: Time, my love, is flowing, 

And I fear I must be going - 
Sophonisba: Oh, no! You don't say so! {Repeat three times, 
and vary.) 

Orlando: Yet surely we can't have been here so long? 
Sophonisba: Oh, no, we can't! Your watch must be wrong! 

Orlando: Our conversation has been so unimportant. 

But my watch is right; it is going as it ought. 
Sophonisba: Then it's not like you, for you're going as you 

To go all the way to Birmingham for half-a-dozen of port! 
Orlando: My beauty, it is my duty! 
Sophonisba: But aren't you sorry to go? 
Orlando: Oh, dear no! 

Air: "There is na luck. " 3 

Sophonisba: What? Ain't you grieved to go, my dear! 
My husband! Oh, for shame! 
How can you go and leave me here? 
You're very much to blame! 

For I can't get on without you, love, 

I can't get on at all! 
That is, of course, you know, my love, 

When you are out of call. 

For puzzles come, and I've no skill, 

I'm really such a dunce! 
The butcher brings his little bill, 

And must be paid at once! 
For I can't get on, etc. 

And visitors, too, come from town, 

Whom I've got to receive. 
With a patch of flour upon my gown 

And some treacle on my sleeve. 
For I can't get on, etc. 

'Twas but the other day a man, 

When told to leave the door, 
Went off- indeed, he almost ran. 

I never saw him more. 

I thought him a good riddance then, 

But 'ere an hour was gone 
I missed the forks - there should be ten - 

And all the spoons but one! 
For I can't get on, etc. 

Orlando: Was I the only spoon you then possessed? 
Sophonisba: No, dear! I missed you more than all the rest! 
But now, my love, decide without delay, 
What will you have for dinner, dear, to-day? 
Orlando 4 : Through feastings and banquetings though we 
should hurry, 

Be it ever so fiery, there's no dish like curry! 
Curry! sweet curry! There's no dish like curry! 
Sophonisba: Through larder and kitchen, I very much fear, 
There is no curry-powder, though I search for a year. 
Talk of curry-powder, there's nothing like it here! 
What do you say to Irish stew? 

Air: "Maidens ofZia. " 5 
Orlando: Not even Irish stew, 
With salt and onions, too, 
Will for your husband do 
So well as mutton, 
Roasted, roasted, roast leg of mutton! 

Let it be nicely done. 
I will be home at one. 
Nothing is half such fun 

As eating mutton, 

Roasted, roasted, roast leg of mutton! 

Let it be very hot, 
Or else I'll eat it not, 
All woes will be forgot 

In eating mutton, 

Roasted, roasted, roast leg of mutton! 

You know, my love, I never wish 
For any other dish, 
So don't get any fish, 
But only mutton, 

Roasted, roasted, roast leg of mutton! 
Sophonisba: Well, love, then roast mutton it shall be. 
Orlando: So now, my love, good-bye. 

Air: "DulceDomum." 6 
Fare thee well, and if for ever, 
Then for ever fare thee well, 
Sophonisba, Sophonisba! 
Listen for the front door bell! (Exit) 
Air: "Dih Conte. " 7 
Sophonisba: Fare thee well, my own Orlando, 
My husband so blooming and fat, 
And remember, oh, my dear one, 
To take good care of your hat; 
For it's new and tender, 
And it cost you four bob and a bender. 
Then don't sit down upon it, or 

You'll squash it ever so flat! 
Fare thee well, and if for ever, 
Then for ever, fare thee well. 
I'll expect you home to dinner, and 

Be listening for the front-door bell. 
Alas! how my duck will suffer 

If he gets pitched into by the buffer, 
Or if beneath the engine he 
Gets squashed like a snail in its shell! 

Draw down G. curtain. 


Scene : Wall, and green paper sides. Two placards: "To 
Booking Office" and "To Platform." Luggage. 
Present : Mooney and Spooney, as before. 

Draw up G curtain, and change for W. 

Mooney: Here we are again. 
Spooney: Here we are, Mooney. 

Mooney: Oh, that won't do at all; we must change our names, 

you know. 

Spooney: Well, then, you must think of new ones, for I'm 

sure I can't; I - I - never was used to that kind of thing. 
Mooney: No more was I, my dear Spooney. What do you say 

to Moggs and Spicer? 
Spooney: Moggs and Spicer! Why, it's the very thing! That's 

a singular coincidence! They're exactly the right names! So 

I'm to call you Moggs? 
Mooney: Certainly, Spicer, you are. 
Spooney: Ha, ha, to be sure, Moggs and Spicer! 
Mooney: But I say, Spicer! 
Spooney: What! 
Mooney: Sich a norrid thing! 
Spooney: Oh don't, don't, please! You frighten me! Are you 

in joke? 
Mooney: In joke? Not I. Hark you, a word in your ear; sich a 

norrid thing! 
Spooney: Oh, I say! Come, come! This is beyond a joke. 

Don't, there's a good fellow! I declare you have made me 

feel so bad! 
Mooney: Do you think I care what it makes you feel, I tell 

you, it's as true as day. One of the norridest things - 
Spooney: Oh, what is it, Moggs, please! I shall faint if you 

don't tell me directly! 

Mooney: Why, we've got a duty here that I didn't know of! 
Spooney: Oh, what is it, Moggs? 
Mooney: We've got to sing. 

<3Si -^ 

Spooney: Sing? When? 

Mooney: Why, always! 

Spooney: What, always? 

Mooney: Yes, Spicer, all day long. We never ought to speak, 

we must sing all we have to say! (A pause.) 
Spooney: Then I'll just tell you what it is, my dear Moggs. / 

can 't do it, and that's all about it! 
Mooney: But you must, my dear Spicer, or else you'll lose 

your situation! 
Spooney: Well if I must, I must. 

Mooney (singing) 8 : Now my dear Spicer, 
I'd have you to try, sir, 
To set all this platform to rights. 
Have the engine brought out, 
Push the luggage about, 
And see to the lanterns and lights. 
Spooney: Yes, Mooney, I will, Mooney. Is that anything like 

Mooney: Not the least atom, my dear Spicer; and remember, 
I'm Moggs, not Mooney! 

Spooney: Oh, Moggs! To be sure, Moggs! Is that any better? 
Mooney: Rather worse, if anything, Spicer; but there's no 
difference worth speaking of. 
Spooney: Oh dear, then I'm afraid I shall never do it! 

Enter Kaffir. 

Mooney: Who are you, sir? 

Spooney: Yes, sir, who are you, sir? It is Mr. Moggs that 

speaks to you, sir, and Mr. Moggs is a very talented man; 

you must answer him directly, sir. Is that more like singing, 


Mooney: Moggs, Moggs, idiot! 
Spooney: Oh, Moggs! Well I never shall remember - 
Mooney: But the man hasn't answered yet. 
Spooney: No, more he has! Are you going to answer, sir? 
Kaffir: — 

Mooney: What's that, Spicer? I don't understand French. 
Spooney: But it ain't French, it's German. 
Mooney: No, that I'll declare it isn't; it must be Dutch. 
Spooney: I don't think it's that either; let's ask him. I say, old 

feller, what language is that? 
Mooney: What a donkey you are, Spicer, he can't understand 

that, you must talk to him in his own language. 

Spooney: How in the world am I to do that, Moggs, when I 

don't even know what it is? 

Mooney: Do as I tell you, sir, and don't be impertinent! 
Spooney: Well, here goes, then: - 
Kaffir: — 

Mooney: Well, what did he say? 
Spooney: Oh, he understood me well enough; the difficulty 

is, I can't understand him! 
Mooney: Stop a moment, I begin to recollect. It's our old 

friend Tamaha, etc. What a' stupid you are, Spicer, not to 

think of that before! 
Spooney: No, no, Moggs, fair play if you please! You're the 

most stupid, you know. 
Mooney: That I'm not; you are, I'm sure! 
Spooney: Oh, well, perhaps, but you're the most foolish at 

any rate, ain't you? 
Mooney: H'm! Don't you talk nonsense; leave me to deal 

with him, I understand the language. 

Mooney and Kaffir converse. Exit Kaffir. 

Spooney: What did he want? 

Mooney: He wanted the situation of stoker, and I've given it 


Spooney: What? Without consulting me? 
Mooney: Without consulting you indeed! I should think so! 
Spooney: Well, you know best, I suppose; but you certainly 

are the most foolish of the two. 

Mooney: No more of that! Spicer, why ain't you singing? 
Spooney: Why should I? 
Mooney: It's so ordered by Bradshaw - 
Spooney: Bother Bradshaw! You're not singing, either. 
Mooney: Why the fact is I don't choose, and I don't care for 

Bradshaw! (Roar heard. Both start.) 
Spooney: What's that? 
Mooney: Don't know, I'm sure. 
Spooney: Did you say you didn't care for Bradshaw? 
Mooney: I did. 
Spooney: Why, no more do I! (Roar.) Oh, I say, don't let's 

talk any more about it, think of something else. 
Mooney: Well, what do you think of the weather? 

Enter Mrs. Muddle. 

Mrs. Muddle: Which I never did see so ill-regulated a station. 
Railway horficers, indeed; I know what I'd do with sich 

Mooney: What do you want, my good woman? 

Mrs. Muddle: Why, here have I been waiting a good half- 
hour to get a docket, and there's no one to give it me! 

Spooney: What does she mean, Moggs? 

Mooney: Oh, if it's a ticket you want, ma'am, I'll get you one 

in a moment - where to? 

Mrs. Muddle: Birmingham. 

Exit Moggs. 
Mrs. Muddle: Now, young man, will you see to the luggridge 
and baggridge, if you please. 

Spooney: Will you show me which is your luggage, ma'am? 
Mrs. Muddle: Why, it's all mine, himperence! What then? 


Spooney: Oh, nothing, ma'am, it's all right here, the train 
won't be here yet. 

Enter Moggs. 

Mooney: Here's your ticket, ma'am. Five and fourpence. 
Mrs. Muddle: There's your money, then. Now young man, 

attend. There's a little basket I left in the office, sir, which 

contains. . .something imported. 
Mooney: What, ma'am? 
Mrs. Muddle: Never you mind what it is, himperence, it's 

something imported. 
Spooney: Oh, Moggs, it's something smuggled! Don't have 

anything to do with it! 
Mooney: Nonsense, Spicer, she means important. Well, 

ma'am, do you wish to have it with you? 
Mrs. Muddle: No, himperence, I don 't wish to have it with 

me. I wishes it to be sent. 


Mooney: Sent how, ma'am? 

Mrs. Muddle: How dare you interrupt me, sir? I wishes it to 

be sent by the - by the Electric Diagrams - 
Mooney: Electric Telegraph, do you mean, ma'am? 
Mrs. Muddle: I should hope I did, sir! 
Spooney: Oh, Moggs, she must be mad! 
Mooney: I'm sorry to say, ma'am, it can't go. 
Mrs. Muddle: Then I'll write to the nugepaper! As sure as 

my name's Muddle, I'll write to the nugepaper! (Exit.) 

Draw down W. curtain. 


Scene : Station. 

Present : Mooney and Spooney. 

Draw up W. curtain, and change for G. 

Mooney: Spicer, where's Mrs. Muddle? 
Spooney: In the waiting room talking about Electric Diagrams. 
Mooney: Do you know, Spicer, what an awful thing I saw just 

Spooney: No, what? 

Mooney: A Bradshaw's Railway Guide on legs stood visibly 
before me, and at the same moment I heard a hollow voice. 

Spooney: Oh, I say, how you terrify me! 
Mooney: Yes, sir, a hollow voice which said: "Mooney, why 
singst thou not. Spooney, why singst thou not? Spooney 
hath murdered singing. And, therefore, Mooney shall sing 
no more, Spooney shall sing no more." 
Spooney: Did it say any more? 
Mooney: Oh, ever such a lot more! It said: 

"Oh, I have passed a miserable day. 

Spooney sings worse than any man can say." 
Spooney: Any more? 
Mooney: Rather. It said: 

"Tunes, music, thorough - bass, lend me your ear, 

I came to see if Spooney sang: he didn't! 

He doesn't know a note or any tune, 

I never heard so shocking bad a singer!" 
Spooney: Oh dear, this is past bearing! What impertinence! 
Mooney: Hush, don't interrupt me. 

"When Spooney tried to sing, I really wept! 

I couldn't bear it! It was agony! 

His listeners should be made of sterner stuff! 

Did this in Spooney look like knowing music? 

Yet Spooney thinks he knoweth how to sing. 

But Spooney he is very much mistaken! 

Each time he tried he always missed the note, 

Now sharp, now flat, but never natural, 

Yet Spooney thinks he knoweth how to sing, 

But Spooney he is very much mistaken!" 

''- J -V - 

Spooney: But, Moggs, that's not true! I don't think I know 

how to sing, and I'd much rather not try! 
Mooney: The figure then said "Tell Spooney from me that he 

shall suffer for his doings and mis-doings." 
Spooney: Oh dear, oh dear! I never bargained for this when I 

took the situation; I'd rather be 100 miles off, a great deal! 
Mooney: Well, I can't stay now, I hear somebody in the office. 

Spooney: Such an odd thing! To think of a book coming and 

talking Shakespeare like a human being - 1 never! 
(Voice calling "Spicer! Spicer! come quick, I can't manage 

him without help." 

Exit Spooney. 

Voices outside: "Oh I say - it's no business of youm!" "Hold 
your tongue!" "Hands off, villain!") 

Enter Orlando, Mooney and Spooney. 

Air ''Come e Gentil - " 9 

Orlando: He won't give me the ticket, the brute, the brute. 
Mooney: I won't give you the ticket, you cheat, you cheat! 
Spooney: You see, sir, he considers it his duty, and therefore 

he won't give you the ticket, because you won't give him 

the money, the money, the money! 
Orlando: Then will you let me go as luggage, you brute, you 

Mooney: I won't let you go as luggage, 'cos you ain't, 'cos 

you ain't! 
Spooney: You see sir, you're a gentleman, and not a parcel, 

and so he won't let you go as luggage, because you ain't 

done up in brown paper, brown paper - 
Orlando: Well then, I must go and get the money. See to my 

luggage - I'm going to Birmingham. (Exit.) 

Whistle heard. 

Mooney: That's the Birmingham train: It's no use waiting for 
him: Let it go. 

Exit Spooney. 

Whistle, etc., heard. Enter Spooney. 

Spooney: Train's gone - 

Enter Orlando. 

Spooney: And all his luggage in it. 
Orlando: Has the train gone, do you know? 
Mooney: Yes, sir, an hour ago. 
Orlando: Bradshaw says half-past nine! 
Mooney: He has not rightly expressed it. 
Orlando: Then I suppose I'm not in time? 
Mooney: Why you've exactly guessed it! 
Orlando: That Bradshaw - 

I only wish I had him here! 

Just wouldn't I give it him? Oh no! 
Mooney: No, you wouldn't! 
Orlando: And why not, I should like to know? 
Mooney: 'Cos you couldn't: He's half as big again as you, 
You little feller! 

He'd beat you black and brown and blue, 
And green and yeller! 
Orlando: Is my luggage gone, too? 
Spooney: Just so, sir. 
Orlando: Send a message by the Electric Telegraph directly; 

and I'll wait here. 

Exit Mooney and Spooney. 

Air: "Auld Lang Syne. " 10 

Orlando: Should all my luggage be forgot, 
And never come to hand, 
I'll never quit this fatal spot, 
But perish where I stand. 

But should it all come back again, 

I'll say: "How glad I am!" 
And I'll take a ticket by the train for Bir-ming-ham. 

In every carriage there's a seat 

More cosy than the rest, 
And when I've room to stretch my feet, 

I always like it best. 
Should such a lot be mine, I'll say: 

"What a lucky dog I am!" 
And joyfully I'll go my way to Bir-ming-ham. 
Though wind be cold, and air be damp, 

It cannot pierce my rug,- 
I'll read my book by the light of the lamp, 

Wrapped up all tight and snug. 
If I get there in time to sup, 

I'll say: "How glad I am!" 
And I'll proudly give my ticket up, at Bir-ming-ham. 

Draw down G. curtain. 


Scene : Station as before; no luggage. 
Present : Moogs and Spicer. 

Draw up G. curtain, and change for W. 

Spooney: I quite agree with you, Moggs, we won't sing any 
more in future. 
Mooney: That we won't! A fig for Bradshaw! 

Roar heard. 

Spooney: Oh, I say, Moggs, don't you mention his name 

again! I am so frightened! 
Mooney: So am I, Spicer; my heart is troubled with fears of 

future sorrow. Coming events, my dear Spicer, cast their 

shadows before. 
Spooney: Except at midday, you know, Moggs; shadows go 

the other way after midday. 
Mooney: My poor Spicer! You have no soul for poetry, I see! 

Enter Huntsman. 

Lost: Where's the stationmaster? I want to go to London by 

the 9.45. 
Mooney: The 9:45, sir? That's gone rather more than half-an- 

hour ago. 

Lost: Oh dear, dear, how unlucky I am! When's the next train? 
Spooney: The next train is 1 1 .5. 
Lost: Oh, that'll do! Give me aticket for that! 
Mooney: But that train goes to Lincoln, sir. 




Lost: Oh, never mind, never mind; I'm sure to miss it, so it 
don't signify! Only give me a ticket. 

Mooney: Now, sir, just be advised by me: wait for the half- 
past eleven train, which goes to London; there's a waiting 
room in there. (Exit Lost.) (Train heard approaching). 

Spooney: What train is this, Mooney? 

Mooney: Moggs, if you please. This will be the Birmingham 
train. (Whistle heard.) Where's that old woman, I wonder? 
She'll be late after all. 

Spooney: I'll run and fetch her. (Exit, and returns with Mrs. 

Mooney: Now, mum, look sharp, if you please. Here's your 
train coming. Is all this your luggage? 

Mrs. Muddle: Yes, sir, it be; but it's not the luggridge I cares 
for, no, nor the baggridge neither. Young man. 

Mooney: Madam. 

Mrs. Muddle: I wishes you to - to - to ensnare my life! 

Spooney: Oh, Moggs, hold me up a moment, I am took so 

Mrs. Muddle: Now himperence, what are you a-grumbling 
about? Are you going to ensnare my life, or not? 

Mooney: Ensnare your life, ma'am! 

Mrs. Muddle: Yes, sir! What with all these collections and 
accidings as is so perpetually 'appening, I daren't go without 
you do! 

Spooney: We couldn't do it, really, mum. I don't know what 
the consequences would be! Don't consent, Moggs! 

Mooney: I haven't a notion what she means! No, ma'am, we 
can't do it on any considerations! 

Mrs. Muddle: Then, young men, mark my words! If any of 
them collections happens, or the steam Indian blows up, or 
I get run over and killed in one of your funnels, which I 
never could see the sense of yet, and they never light 'em 
up, mark my words, it'll be manslaughter! And if it be, which 
I'm mortally certain it will, I'll write to the nugepaper! There! 

Spooney: But, my dear madam, it can't be manslaughter, in 
any case. It will only be woman-slaughter. 

Mrs. Muddle: Well, and what then, you young Spooney, 
ain't that just as bad? 

Spooney: How does she know my name? 

Mooney: She doesn't; don't betray yourself! 

Mrs. Muddle: No, I don't know your name, nor I don't want 
to; your face is bad enough, in all conscience! 

Whistle heard. Lost rushes across back of stage. 




Mooney: Run and stop the train, Spicer, and see what that 
gentleman is after. (Exit Spicer.) Really, madam, you 
shouldn't go by the railway alone; why haven't you 
somebody with you? 

Mrs. Muddle: Because I'm suffidgent by myself, himperence! 
My missis was a sayin' to me only this mornin', says she: 
"Mrs. Muddle," says she, "won't you have someone with 
you?" "No, mum," says I, "I won't; I knows all about the 
dockets, and the collections, and the steam Indians," says I, 
"and I knows the himperence of the railway horficers," I 
says, "and I can manage it all, and when I gets to the station 
I wants to get out at," says I, "why, I'll just nudge the 
conductor with the pint of my rumberoller!" 

Mooney: My good woman, you are under some mistake. A 
railway train is not a bus! 

Mrs. Muddle: Oh, it ain't, ain't it, sir? Then what does it go 
and conduct itself as a bus for, I'd like to know? 

Mooney: I don't understand you, ma'am - 

Mrs. Muddle: Why, one of them steam Indians went and 
bust only last seek, at least so my neege Eliza telled me. 

Mooney: Bust? Madam, what in the world do you mean? 

Mrs. Muddle: Well, it did bust; don't you go for to denige it, 
himperence! And now, sir, are you going to ensnare my life 
for me, or not? 

Enter Spicer and Mr. Lost. 

Lost: Oh, whatever will become of me, I'm sure I don't know! 
Spooney: Here's this gentleman was a-running like mad into 

the wrong train. 
Lost: And so I ought to, oughtn't I? It was just on the point 

of starting. 
Mrs. Muddle: Just going, is it? and I haven't got my life 

ensnared yet! Oh, you villains! 

Exit Mrs. Muddle. Whistle and train heard going. 

Enter Mrs. Muddle. 

Mrs. Muddle: There now! there's the train gone, and all my 
luggridge in it! 

Lost: Gone! Then it's all up! 

Spooney: No, sir, that was the down train. 

Mrs. Muddle: Well, young men, I'll write to the nugepaper 
immediate, and what' 11 it'll do, I'm sure I can't tell, but I 'ope 
it'll give you six months in the treadmill, or else hard labour 
at the gallows! Mark my words - I says to you, says I, "See 
to the luggridge and baggridge" - that were the depression 
I made use of- and you've been and sent it off without me! 

Mooney: But, my dear madam, you shall go by the next train 

- won't that do? 


Mrs. Muddle: No, sir, it will not do! 
Mooney: What do you want then? 

Mrs. Muddle: Well, I'll say nothing' more about it, so long 
as you'll send me by the - the electric Diagrams. 

Mooney, Spooney and Lost rush out. 

.# j*t «• fe 

Mrs. Muddle: (Singing. Air: "Norma. ") n 
Oh, dear! Whatever am I to do? 
Dear, whatever am I to do? 
Here's all my luggridge is gone, 

I haven't the least idea where to! 
There was three trunks and an oblong box 

And none of them had got any locks; 
And they'll be robbed on the way, as sure 

As my name is Muddle, they will. 
Oh, dear! Whatever am I to do? 

Draw down W. Curtain. 


Scene: Coloured paper - carpet. 
Present: Sophonisba. 

Draw up W. curtain. 

Sophonisba: Ah, how my heart beats with fear! 
Would that my beloved husband were here! 
I wish he wasn't quite so late! 
The dinner' 11 be spoilt as sure as fate! 

Air: "Non Piu Mesta. " ,2 

Is the mutton roasting, Sarah Jane? 

And are the potatoes boiled? 
If we have to send them out again 

The dinner-party will be spoiled! 

Enter Sarah Jane. 

Cook.: Why, I'm sorry to say, mum, the meat took a jump. 

And into the ashes did rush; 
But I've bin and I've scrubbed it under the pump, 

With soap and a blacking-brush! 
And the taties, mum, they was bilin' so well, 

When just as I turned my back, 

A whole lot of soot down the chimbley fell, 
And now they're as black as black! 
Sophonisba: You don't say so! Is it quite spoilt? 
Cook: Quite, mum! It'll only do for me and perliceman Z.74 to 

'ave for supper this night. 

Sophonisba: Then what are we to have for dinner? 
Cook: Oh, mum, I'll run you up some little thing in a jiffey! 

What d'you say to Irish stew? 
Sophonisba: Irish stew, cook? The very thing! 
Cook: Why, I thought as much, mum, so I've just done some; 

it's down to the fire now! (Exit.) 

Enter Orlando. 

Orlando: Dinner ready, my dear? 

Sophonisba: Very nearly, I believe, love - 

Orlando: What, the roast leg of mutton? That's right! 

That roast leg of mutton, of mutton, of mutton, 
That roast leg of mutton I've thought of all day. 

So let us get at it, get at it, get at it, 
So let us get at it without more delay! 
Sophonisba: Why, the fact is, dear, it's not - 
Orlando: Not hot mutton! 
Sophonisba: No, my love, don't be angry. 

Air: "La ci darem. " 13 

Orlando: I don't like cold mutton. 
Sophonisba: I know that as well as you. 
Orlando: But whatever it is, I don't care a button! 
Sophonisba: Why, my dear love, it's Irish stew! 
Orlando: Then what has become of the joint? 
Sophonisba: That doesn't matter to you! 
Orlando: Where is it? 
Sophonisba: That's nothing to the point, 

For we're to dine on Irish stew. 
Orlando: Then since it must be so, must be so, must be so, 

Into the dining room let us go, let us go. 

Come with me - 
Sophonisba: I agree. (Exeunt both.) 

A short pause. 

Enter both by other door. 

Sophonisba: Now, my love, that we have dined, 

Tell me, if you feel inclined, 

How you travelled and got on. 
Orlando: All my luggage, dear, is gone! 

I've been the sport of cruel fate, 

For every train I was too late! 
It's all along of Bradshaw! 

Air: "Long, long ago. " 14 

When I arrived at the sta-ti-on 

Long, long ago, etc. 
I found that the train which I wanted was gone, 

Long, long ago, etc. 
The train-time in Bradshaw was printed all wrong, 
And that is the reason that I've been so long, 
And I only wish he had gone to Hong-Kong, 

Long, long ago, etc. 


Air: "Go, forget me. " 15 

Sophonisba: Oh! forget it. Why should Bradshaw 
O'er that brow a shadow cast? 
Let us think no more about it, 
Since you have got home at last. 
Orlando: Home? But where 's the roasted mutton? 
And I've got no clothes to put on; 
May that Guide of Bradshaws be 
Put behind the fire by me! 

Air: "Paloma" I6 
Orlando: That Bradshaw, I wish he'd caught it as he ought; 
that Bradshaw's Railway Guide - "That Bradshaw!" etc. 
Sophonisba: Ditto, as above. 

Enter Bradshaw. 

Orlando: Oh horror! 

Enter all. 

Bradshaw: "Enter my minions all and hear my words: 
I made a rule my servants were to sing. 
That rule they disobeyed, and in revenge 
I altered all the train-times in my book, 
And made the world go wrong, what then? 'twas just; 
And ever thus shall virtue be rewarded, 
And vice be punished, ye that hear me now, 
Say, do not I speak truly; let applause 
Be ours if now our conduct be commended; 
But hisses, groans, and howlings as of beasts, 
If we have failed your hopes to satisfy!" 
Draw down W. curtain. 


By Mr. Flex more. 

Scene : Green curtain at back - green floor - green paper 

Draw up W. curtain, and change for P. 

Air: "Admiral. " l7 

How gallantly, how merrily, we've spent our time to-day! 
The audience are delighted, delighted with our play, 
Or so at least they seem to be, by making such a noise, 
The cause for which, I fancy, is, there are so many boys! 
Both strangers and relations, we thank you, one and all, 
We asked you for your plaudits and you answered to our 


Pit, gallery (if such there be) and stalls, and private boxes, 
Spectators all of many names, especially Wilcoxes! 
I hope you've all been satisfied with music, sound and sight, 
And now I think it's fully time to wish you all good-night. 
I've but two words to say to you, so patient as you've been, 
Which are "Good health to each one here," "Long live our 

gracious Queen!" 

Draw down P. curtain. 

National Anthem. 



1 . "I ' ve been wandering through the wide world ..." 

Untraced, and perhaps not a parody at all, unless it be a derivative 
of "I've been roaming..." by C.E. Horn (1786-1849). The first 
line recalls some words written on a piece of wood by the youthful 
Dodgson, and found beneath the floorboards at Croft Rectory: 
"And we'll wander through the wide world and chase the buffalo.." 

2. "Oh my eye, what jolly fun..." 

Also untraced, and perhaps with no conscious source. 

3. "There's nae luck aboot the hoose..." 

An 18th century Scottish ballad, variously attributed to W.J. 
Mickle and Jean Adams. The tune is traditional. 

4. "Through feastings and banquetings. . . " 

Parody of "Home, sweet home...", a well-remembered air from 
Henry Bishop's otherwise forgotten opera, Clari, the Maid of 
Milan (1823). It was borrowed by Donizetti for his own (much 
more memorable) Anna Bolena (1830), and became the theme- 
song of Adelina Patti. The words are by the American actor and 
dramatist John Howard Payne. 

5. "Maidens of Zia..." 

From Thomas Moore's Evenings in Greece (1830). An 
arrangement for piano trio was published in Philadelphia in the 

6. "Dulcedomum..."(/.e., "Fare thee well...") 

School song of Winchester College, a 17th century composition 
by John Reading. 

7. "DihConte..." 

This seems to be a misprint, and has defied all attempts at 
emendation. The best conjectures to date are "Di tanti palpiti. . ." 
from Rossini's Tancredi (1813), and "Deh contentatevi..." from 
Cimarosa's Matrimonio segreto ( 1 792). ("Four bob and a bender" 
- the price of Orlando's hat - is an obsolete vulgarism for four 
shillings and sixpence, 4/6). 

8. "Now my dear Spicer..." 

9. "Com' egentil..." 

Ernesto's aria from Act III of Donizetti's Don Pasquale (1843). 

10. "Auld langsyne..." 

A folk-song, revived by Robert Burns in 1794. The tune now 
associated with it has a complicated history. It was used in the 
opera Rosina (1783) by William Shield, but may be of Scottish 
origin, like the words. 

11. "Norma..." 

Presumably refers to a strain from Bellini's opera of that name 
(1831), whose best-known aria is "Casta diva..." As his diaries 
record, Dodgson first attended a live performance in London in 

12. "Non piu mesta..." 

The heroine Angelina's final aria from Act II of Rossini's La 
Cenerentola (18 1 7). 

13. "Lacidarem..." 

The duet for Zerlina and the Don in Act I of Mozart's Don 
Giovanni ( 1 787). 

14. "Long long ago. . ." 

A ballad by Thomas Haynes Bayly ( 1 797- 1 839), which was later 

parodied again by Dodgson in The Legend of Scotland, written for 
the Longley family in 1858. 

15. "Go forget me, why should sorrow..." 

A ballad adapted by William (or Thomas) Clifton, ca. 1840, to 
music from Mozart's Don Giovanni. "Batti, batti, bel Masetto. . ." 
- Zerlina's aria from Act I - is a not unlikely candidate. 

16. "LaPaloma..." 

A song, it seems, and later a piano piece, by Sebastien Yradier 
(1809-65), a Cuban composer whose Habanera earned a second 
lease of life when it was appropriated for use in Bizet's Carmen. 

17. "Admiral..." 

Untraced, but may be an allusion to Admiral Benbow, whose 
exploits in the Caribbean against the French, in 1702, were 
commemorated in an 18th century sea-shanty of that name. 

It remains to be added that the names of Messrs B. Webster, 
Kemble, Liston and Mrs Siddons, in the Prologue, and of Mr 
Flexmore, in the Epilogue, refer to well-known theatrical figures, 
none of whom (it need hardly be said) had anything to do with 
presenting La Guida to its public. 

"When I look at you, I see more than just a cat — I see the rewards 
of a conscientiously applied program of dental hygiene. " 


Love, Ruth: A Son 's Memoir by LCSNA President- 
emeritus Charles C. Lovett, (Callanwolde Guild; 
0967204046) is a "tender and sensitive and true" 
examination of love and loss in looking at the life 
of his mother, Ruth Candler Lovett, great-grand- 
daughter of the founder of the Coca-Cola com- 
pany, who passed away at the age of 29. 


Leaves from the Deanery Garden 

Being a Laurel and Hardy fan as well as a true Carrollian, I 
couldn't let the following error go unnoticed in the Knight 
Letter No. 60: On page 21 in the answer to the "Losing Their 
Marbles" Challenge, it is stated that in the L&H movie "The 
Bohemian Girl"( 1 936) "the duo sing the ballad ' I Dreamt that 
I Dwelt in Marble Halls'". Although Oliver Hardy's natural 
tenor voice would have indeed been appropriate and charming 
to hear, the song was not sung 
by Babe and/or Stan; it was 
performed by the title character, 
who was played by Jacqueline 
Wells. I'm not sure if she was 
dubbed or not, however. Thanks 
for letting me make this 
correction. By the way, the 
Knight Letter keeps getting 
better and better! Congratu- 
lations and regards. 

Margaret Quiett 

When the mail lady delivered a 
package which my husband 
knew was a foreign translation of 
A W, he invited her in to see my 
collection of 600+ Alice books, 
explaining what an important 
author Lewis Carroll was. 
Puzzled, she replied, "I thought 
Walt Disney wrote Alice in 
Wonderland!" (groan) 

Carolyn Buck 
Stockton, CA 

I saw a license plate yesterday that was weird. It was in black, 
lavender and fuchsia, mostly, and said "Disney VILLAINS". 
The character was the Cheshire Cat, complete with sly grin! 
But he is hardly a villain! Maybe Dan Singer should get to 
work on this. 

Actually, it wasn't a license plate, it was one of those metal 
things INSTEAD of a license plate on the front of the car. It 
had a regular license plate on the rear. I don't know what to 
call it! It was shaped like a license plate, it was where a license 
plate goes, but instead of "California" and a series of numbers, 
it had a large C. Cat and "Disney Villains" , in black and 
DayGlo colors. A souvenir from D-land? Beats me. It was on 
a car parked at my school, so it was probably stolen. 

Cindy Watter 
Napa CA 

The Cheshire Cat license plate is indeed from Disneyland, 
made in the early 90 's. (I have two, one of them covered with 
splattered bugs, and one clean.) When Merlin's Magic Shop 
in Fantasyland was changed over to the Villains Shop, a new 
line of "villains" merchandise was created. I was confused as 
well about the C. Cat's inclusion in this group, though when 

I thought about it, his mischief in the Disney film is ultimately 
responsible for instigating the Queen's final chase after Alice. 
Does that qualify him for villain status? Not really. Disney 
Villains merchandise has proven very popular over the past 
decade, but these days the Queen of Hearts is the 
representative villain from the "Alice" film, and the C.Cat 
was chosen as one of the characters to represent "75 years 
of Disney Magic" on commemorative merchandise this year. 

Dan Singer 
Pasadena CA 

As with most theories, I believe 
there is some truth in Fernando 
Soto's theory that there is an 
"ultrarationality" at work in 
Lewis Carroll's writings. At the 
same time, however, I also 
believe that in his zeal to prove 
that Carroll did not write 
nonsense, Mr. Soto falls into 
two traps common to 

1 . When a scholar is determined 
to find meaning in a work, he 
will find it - whether it was 
intended by the author or not. 
(Corollary: The scholar will 
then feel convinced the 
meaning he "discovered" was 
intended by the author, and will 
consider that conclusion to be 
obvious to any rational 

2. When armed with a pet theory, any evidence that even 
vaguely supports that theory will be latched onto and 
quoted. Any evidence that invalidates that theory will 
be blithely ignored. 

(I am reminded of an incident in which a professor at an 
Elizabethan studies conference tried to warn colleagues 
against these tendencies: In his presentation he gave a 
detailed textual analysis, building a very convincing argument 
that Christopher Marlowe had actually written the conference 
dinner menu.) 

Mr. Soto is determined to prove that "far from being the 
paradigmatic nonsense or 'antimeaning' work. . . it is so often 
portrayed...", the Snark was carefully crafted in (a) logical, 
'ultrarational', and 'rage for order' manner. . ." But since he is 
adamant about "taking Carroll at his word," why did Mr. Soto 
not include in his article these more candid statements by 
Carroll, mentioned in one of his own sources, The Annotated 

"As to the meaning of the Snark? I'm very much afraid I 
didn't mean anything but nonsense! Still, you know, words 
mean more than we mean to express when we use them: so 
a whole book ought to mean a great deal more than the 
writer meant. So, whatever good meanings are in the book, 


I'm very glad to accept as the meaning of the book." 

"I have a letter from you... asking me 'Why don't you 
explain the Snarkl\ . .Let me answer it now - 'because I 
can't.' Are you able to explain things which you don't 
yourself understand?" 

"Periodically I have received courteous letters... begging 
to know whether The Hunting of the Snark is an allegory, 
or contains some hidden moral, or is a political satire: and 
for all such questions I have but one answer, 'I don't 

"... I meant that the Snark was a Boojum. To the best of my 
recollection, I had no other meaning in my mind when I 
wrote it: but people have since tried to fmd the meaning in 

In light of this, I can only assume that, after all these years, 
Mr. Soto believes he knows more about what Lewis Carroll 
meant than Lewis Carroll did himself. 

Rather than Mr. Soto being the first person in 133 years to 
understand the Snark, as he seems to believe, I believe that 
he is the one misunderstanding the famous line in the poem's 
introduction. He is missing what everyone else has 
understood for years: that in vehemently denying the charge 
of writing nonsense, Carroll was making a joke. Carroll was 
pretending to be offended at the charge of writing nonsense 
in the same way that the rotund Falstaff pretended to be 
offended at the charge of being fat, or the drunken W.C. 
Fields pretending to be offended at the charge that he was 
inebriated. He was being ironic! 

Most disturbing to me, Mr. Soto also displays the academic's 
ultrarational intolerance for ambiguity, seemingly incapable 
of understanding that human beings can be complex and 
multifaceted in nature, and that a person who could be 
ultrarational in some areas of his life could also be nonsensical 
at other times. In this, he reduces Charles Dodgson to a one- 
dimensional caricature. 

Jonathan Dixon 
Santa Fe, NM 

To: Art Gallery of Ontario 
Hello - Could you help clear up a bit of confusion? In the 
course of my researches into the history of a painting in your 
collection (Hughes' "Lady {a.k.a. Girl} with Lilacs", once 
owned by C.L.Dodgson, better known as "Lewis Carroll"), I 
keep running into references to the "Art Gallery of Toronto" 
- the book Arthur Hughes, His Life and Works by Leonard 
says the painting was acquired by a committee of the AGT 
for the AGO. Is (or was) there an AGT separate from the 
AGO? Could you possibly shed some light on this for me? 

Many thanks, 
Mark Burstein 

The Art Museum of Toronto was officially founded in 1900. 
The museum had no permanent exhibition space until 1911 
when Mrs. Harriette Goldwin Smith deeded The Grange, a 15 
room Georgian mansion built in 1 8 1 7, and 6 acres of parkland 
to the museum. The Museum officially opened in The Grange 

in 1913. In 1919 the name was changed to Art Gallery of 
Toronto to avoid confusion with the recently opened Royal 
Ontario Museum. In 1966, the Art Gallery of Toronto became 
a provincial agency and was renamed the Art Gallery of 
Ontario with an expanded mandate to serve all the people of 
the province of Ontario. In 1 967 the Volunteer Committee 
began work on The Grange to make it a living museum, which 
was re-opened to the public in 1973. 1 hope this helps alleviate 
your confusion. 


Mara Meikle 

Art Gallery of Ontario 

The Royal Ontario Museum is very much alive in Toronto as 
well ( and we promise not to 
confuse the two, especially during our upcoming meeting! 

Charlie Lovett suggested that I mention to you a recent article 
on the Carroll centenary in the Dictionary of Literary 
Biography Yearbook, 1998 (Gale, 1999). I did the article with 
lots of help from Charlie, who also supplied many of the 

Caroline C. Hunt 

Professor of English 

College of Charleston, Charleston, SC 

I have just finished reading The Problem of the Spiteful 
Spiritualist by Roberta Rogow, and enjoyed it so much, I 
wanted to share my pleasure with you. [VHPS/St. Martins 
Press: 0312205708] This is the second of Rogow's mystery 
series in which our beloved Arthur Conan Doyle is teamed 
up with the Reverend Charles Dodgson as an odd couple of 
detectives who solve some intriguing mysteries. In their first 
sleuthing adventure they are thrown together in Brighton, 
England to solve The Problem of the Missing Miss. 
[0312185537; see KL 57, p. 2 3] In this latest thriller they get 
mixed up with an eerie seance and an Indian treasure. 

If you are as fascinated by life in Victorian England as I am, 
you are going to devour these whodunits each in one gulp. 

Happy Reading! 
Rich Wit. 

You might be interested to know that Professors of British 
Literature Jean-Jacques Lecercle, Michel Morel, and Sophie 
Marret have organized a conference on Lewis Carroll that 
will be held at Nancy University (France) on Friday 19 and 
Saturday 20 November 1999. 1 will be reading a (shortened) 
French version of the paper on CLD and the Victorian Cult of 
the Child which I am to read at the New York Spring 2000 
meeting ; other speakers include Dame Gillian Beer, Jean Marie 
Fournier, Laurence Gasquet, Veronique Hague, Guy Leclercq, 
Isabelle Nieres, Pascal Renaud, Roy Sellars and Michael 
Wetzel. It will be a strictly academic conference, but 
information regarding attendance can be obtained from 

With best regards 



It was only after receiving and reading the section "From Our 
Far-flung Correspondents" in KLU6Q that I realized I should 
have written something about the big "Alice in Wonderland" 
spring theme held from February to April 1999 at Marshall 
Field's and Co. department stores in Chicago and the suburbs. 
Well, better late than never. 

At the Field's flagship store on State Street (that great street!) 
in The Loop, their windows displayed 3-D scenes-in the style 
of Tenniel. Over the doors to the main entrance was a large 
sculpture of the Cheshire Cat perched atop a branch. Along 
a main aisle inside were sculptures of the White Rabbit 
blowing its horn to welcome in the shoppers. Many "Alice" 
items were on sale, including collector plates, dolls, books, 
snow-globes, figurines, Christmas ornaments, partyware, 
cards, and videotapes of the NBC-TV movie. After making 
my purchases, the cashier placed the items inside a fancy 
shopping bag that had a thin layer of clear plastic on the 
front side. This gave the 3-D effect — when the bag was 
opened — of Alice (on the outside of the front side of the 
bag) looking across at the Cheshire Cat atop its perch (on the 
inside of the opposite side of the bag). 

When the exhibit and sale ended in April, Field's sold the 
special handmade displays (which had been up for the 
duration of the exhibit) to local "Alice" collectors, including 
one to yours truly. 

A lovely exhibit, to be sure. 

Fred Ost 
Skokie, IL 

Editor's Queries 

Does anyone know where to find Edmund Wilson's essay on 
Lewis Carroll? 

f > 

The Paper Lantern greeting card (p.22) says "All that matters 
is what we do for each other - Lewis Carroll". The brochure 
for the St. Tudno hotel (p.20) quotes Carroll as: "One of the 
deep secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is 
what we do for others." Does anyone recognize the source 
(and proper wording) of this quote? 


Sven Birkerts, writing in Feed Magazine, July 13, 1999, 
compared his experiences with two electronic book 
media - the Rocket eBook and the Softbook. 

"My initial response, after some long minutes 
of reading and clicking, was to feel uneasy about the 
disappearance of context. The further in I read, the 
worse it got. Simply: I lost sight- literally - of where I 
had been, and had no real idea of how much further 
there was to go - in the chapter, in the book. The thin 
bar indicator running along the right margin of the 
Rocket eBook did not really help, nor was clicking 
backward any sort of solution. I began to realize how 
much my reading of a book depends on my sense of 
being situated, and how much I flex and relax certain 
cognitive muscles depending on where I know myself 
to be in the paper text. With the e-books, focus is 
removed to the section isolated on the screen and 
perhaps to the few residues remaining from the pages 
immediately preceding. The Alzheimer's effect, one 
might call it. Or more benignly, the cannabis effect. 
Which is why Alice in Wonderland, that wr-text of the 
mind-expanded '60s, makes such a perfect demo-model. 
For Alice too, proceeds by erasing the past at every 
moment, subsuming it entirely in every new adventure 
that develops. It has the logic of a dream - it is a dream 

- and so does this peculiarly linear reading mode, more 
than one would wish. 

No context, then, and no sense of depth. I 
suddenly understood how important - psychologically 

- is our feeling of entering and working our way through 
a book. Reading as journey, reading as palpable 
accomplishment - let's not underestimate these. The 
sensation of depth is secured, in some part at least, by 
the turning of real pages: the motion, slight though it 
is, helps to create immersion in a way that thumb clicks 
never can. When my wife tells me, 'I'm in the middle of 
the new Barbara Kingsolver', she means it literally as 
well as figuratively." 

WHITE RABBITS! or simply RABBITS! A South of 
England greeting on the first day of every month: late 
(?mid- or even earlier) C. 19-20. 'Good luck!' 

~ The Penguin Dictionary of Historical Slang 

(Penguin Books, 5* Edition, 1982), adapted from 

The Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English 

by Eric Partridge (4 1 " Edition, 1961; first published in 1937) 


"The mome rath hasn't been born that can 
outgrabe me." 

~ James Thurber, 
The Thurber Carnival 


Weekend in Wales, June 1999 
Cindy Watter 

As we drove up the hill to the Lewis Carroll Society 
(U.K.)'s meeting site, that appropriately named monument to 
splendid Victoriana, the Empire Hotel, we passed a used 
bookstore. "Not much use going in there," said Alan [White] 
glumly to Myra [Campbell] and me. "Mark [Richards] and 
Charlie [Lovett] have already been here for a day. "I figured 
that if that was the only thing that went wrong all weekend, I 
would have a delightful time. And I did. The Empire Hotel, in 
its ladylike frou-frou, stuffed with Spode and packed with 
Portmeirion, could not be in greater relief to the monastic 
glamour of last year's site, Christ Church. It is an old but very 
well-maintained place, somehow attached to the lower reaches 
of the Great Orme, affording wonderful views of Llandudno's 
crescent-shaped bay and the downtown area. My room was 
the perfect virgin's bower, with a frilled canopy over the bed, 
fabulous bath, and the requisite blue and white china teaset. 
In a way, it was wasted on me, who can fall asleep standing 

The staff of the Empire was uniformly helpful and 
obliging, but what made me feel extra welcome was the mini- 
tabloid, The Alice Times, which was concocted by Ivor Wynne 
Jones, and placed in our rooms. This instant collectible (and 
the first of many that weekend) contained information about 
the history of Llandudno and the Empire Hotel, and was 
designed as a "personal tribute to 30 years of happy 
association with both the Lewis Carroll Society and the 
Maddocks family (the owners)." 

A note to travelers: the area, while Victorian enough 
to give Martha Stewart sugar shock, does offer a lot for the 
whole family: cycling and climbing, a cable car ride up the 
Great Orme, tours of a copper mine and slate caverns, and the 
seashore, of course. The cult television program "The 
Prisoner" was filmed in nearby Portmeirion, and there are 
museums and castles galore. Llandudno is a beautiful place, 
and the weather confounded all predictions by being mild 
and generally sunny. Of course, the casual visitor would not 
have the advantage we enjoyed: Ivor Wynne Jones, whose 
idea it was to have the meeting in Llandudno, and who knows 
everything there is to know about the place. The first morning 
of the gathering I had the pleasure of being driven around by 
him, in the company of Stephen Martin and David Lockwood. 
We drove all along the bay, supposedly heading a convoy 
that, like an echo of the Snark hunt, became shorter and shorter. 
I felt like a jet-lagged Dante being hauled around by a 
hyperthyroid Virgil, except Llandudno is hardly a hell. Most 
probably because of its distance from the metropolis, the 
entire area has retained an enormous amount of its 1 9th 
century charm. We viewed the Menai Bridge immortalized in 
the White Knight's song, visited a couple of houses that 
Alice Liddell knew as a child (now, sadly, an old folks' home 
and a caravan park), and wound up at Beaumaris, reuniting 
with the rest of the group. Some of us had lunch at the Bulkeley 
and some of us were ignored by the staff for 90 minutes. 
Beaumaris is indeed beautiful, and is where young Charles 
Dodgson spent a holiday with his family in 1840. It is Ivor 

Wynne Jones's belief that crossing the bridge, an engineering 
marvel of its day, made a powerful impression on CLD. He did 
write about it, twice. The birthplace of the little oysters in 
"The Walrus and the Carpenter" could well have been the 
beds at Anglesey (which were shut down, permanently, when 
the Duke of Clarence died after eating some). In addition, 
Thomas Hansom, inventor of the eponymous cab (also noted 
by Carroll), designed the prison, which some of us toured, 
the city hall, the Bulkeley Hotel, and the famous housing 
development, Victoria Terrace. I myself ate an ice cream cone 
beside the medieval castle, home of Edward 1. 1 have no idea 
if the castle impressed Master Dodgson, but he would have 
loved the Museum of Childhood, which most of us visited. 

This award-wining, privately owned museum is the 
perfect embodiment of the pack-rat's credo: "Never throw 
anything out." (This thought resonated all weekend, in fact.) 
All manner of toys, games, and children's utensils and 
furniture were displayed. There was an unbelievable variety: 
handcarved wooden "Dutch dolls", teddy bears, a sailor doll, 
a china Victorian fashion doll, papier-mache eggs, an unusual 
black baby doll, and rag "golliwogs" were jumbled, higgledy- 
piggeldy, in the same case. 

We went back to Llandudno for dinner, and the 
official opening of the LCS outing. I should point out here 
that the Empire Hotel takes the Victorian theme into the dining 
room: all the meals were first-class, five-course, and an homage 
to the days when sex symbols weighed 200 pounds. Mark 
Richards opened the by promising that we would all feel like 
old Alice hands by meeting's end. Ivor Wynne Jones then 
welcomed us to Llandudno, the "queen of Welsh resorts". In 
Welsh! He told us that the meeting we were attending had its 
inception in the Oak Room of the Plaza Hotel where, after the 
Morton Cohen dinner in the spring of 1998, he, Selwyn, 
Catherine, Mark, Christina, and Sarah, "my co-conspirators", 
decided that a meeting at Llandudno was a good idea. Without 
mincing any words, he launched into a narrative of the history 
of the "infamous" White Rabbit statue. 

Ivor does not dislike the statue itself, just its 
inscription. Here it is, dear reader: "On this very shore during 
happy rambles with little Alice Liddell, Lewis Carroll was 
inspired to write that literary treasure Alice in Wonderland 
which has charmed children for generations." The problem 
with this inscription is that there is no evidence that CLD 
ever stayed at Penmorfa (the Liddell's home), nor is there any 
record of his visiting Llandudno (and hotels kept records of 
visitors, and usually published them in the papers!). The 
basis for this notion apparently comes from a book written 
by an Arthur Hughes around 1947. It relates a third-hand 
conversation with the painter of "The Three Sisters", Sir 
William Richmond, and a town councilman, J.J. Marks. Marks 
stated that Richmond said that Carroll put the finishing 
touches on A Awhile staying at Penmorfa. Other people who 
weren't there (Miss Menella Dodgson, for example) weighed 
in with their assertions, and a legend was born. 

The statue was unveiled by David Lloyd George in 
1 933, and since then has become a figure of fun for Carrollians 
and a target of the local vandals. Ivor has twice offered a 


replacement plaque to the town council, but been rebuffed. 
He does not have a high opinion of their knowledge of English 
literature: when they were told the LCS would be in their 
precincts, one member wanted to know if we would be dressed 
in Wonderland costumes! (More on that later.) 

Ivor makes an excellent point: when the town could 
be capitalizing on the very real presence of Alice Liddell, 
who was, after all, pajnted with her sisters with the gorgeous 
Welsh landscape behind them; rather it chases "the long- 
suffering ghost of Lewis Carroll." He also related a funny 
story: he was asked to name the streets of a Llandudno 
housing estate in 1977. He chose Alice-themed names, "a 
cunning plot": Alice Gardens, Lorina's Lane, Isis Way, 
Cuffnells Close, and Emery Down. Observe the name spelled 
by the first letters of the streets, one of Lewis Carroll's favorite 
tricks! Not that anyone noticed. 

The question and answer period followed. Who has 
the portrait by Richmond? Major Liddell. What about that 
picture of the Liddells in front of Penmorfa in an album of 
Carroll photos? In size, shape, and composition, it is unlike 
Carroll's style of photography, and is probably not his work. 
Whether or not Carroll stayed at Penmorfa will probably rank 
with the "Did he ever meet Edward Lear?" debate. The answer 
to both questions is: "Not very likely." 

Next, Drs. Selwyn Goodacre and Catherine Richards 
shared a remarkable assortment of ephemera with us. 
Catherine may well have the world's most comprehensive 
collection of postcards chronicling the gradual states of 
decrepitude of the White Rabbit statue. She showed them to 
escalating hoots of gaiety and disbelief. There was even a 
set of first day covers with a stamp of the statue with one ear 
missing! After that, Alan, Myra, Catherine, and Mark flogged 
tickets to a prize drawing. (To show you how seriously they 
take collecting: Alan saved the used drawing tickets for the 
LCS archives.) The next morning we went off again in the 
wagon train. We first went to Church of Our Savior with its 
Lewis Carroll Memorial Font, which, again, said that Lewis 
Carroll loved Llandudno. I didn't care: the vicar was a nice 
man and there was a wonderful Mothers' Union banner and 
a charming sign on the front gate: Polite Notice Please Do 
Not Allow Your Dog To Foul The Grounds. I wish I had one 
of each. From there we went, largely on foot, across the 
promenade towards the White Rabbit statue. Dear reader, I 
can barely express the emotion I felt upon seeing that sacred 
shrine. Nevertheless, I shall try. Picture an earless, pawless 
(Oh my dear paws) white marble rabbit, standing on a stack 
of white marble masonry, peering around the trunk of a tree at 
nothing, with a battered squirrel one level below, and a lump 
of marble that I was assured used to be a frog one level below 
that. The misleading plaque was still there. The actual base 
seemed to be cracked. "Maybe that's where they used the 
butchers' slabs" I said. "No, they used those for the ears." 
(Years ago, lack of materials had caused the repair crew to 
used recycled marble.) In a vain attempt to prevent at-loose- 
ends art critics from destroying the piece, the town council 
had authorized a sort of bubble, made of metal bars, to be 
constructed around the statue. This gives it an odd fifties- 

futuristic sort of look, but is obviously useless as protection. 
"How useless?" you may ask. Here's how: even I could have 
squeezed through those bars. To add the final fillip to the 
poignant tableau, the statue was set in a rectangular reflecting 
pool. Floating in the northwest corner of the pool (of tears?) 
was - a mouse! This Carrollian detail propelled us to the 
Gogarth Abbey Hotel, formerly Penmorfa, summer home of 
Alice Liddell, where we were scheduled to have coffee. 

Fascinating place. From a distance, if you ignored 
the ill-advised additions, it looked a bit like the Bates house 
in "Psycho". Then we went into the coffee room and it looked 
a lot like your friends' parents' places at the beach, where 
they put all the furniture that has gone out of style. A clatter 
of crockery informed us that coffee was there and we all 
settled down to talk. Many people hadn't seen each other 
since the big meeting last summer, and there were new people 
to meet. All of a sudden, Mark appeared and said, "I think it's 
time to leave." We were then hustled out, but we didn't know 

It turns out that the request to view the famous 
huge "Walrus and the Carpenter" painting (signed by William 
Fowler, but the owner swears it's by Tenniel), had brought 
down a rain of abuse on the heads of the more adventurous 
of the group. The owner, who has apparently attended the 
Basil Fawlty School of Hospitality, locked the door to the 
dining room, and informed them that she was sorry, but as we 
weren't staying there, we couldn't see the picture. "You're 
not sorry AT ALL," retorted the ever-truthful Veronica 
Hickey, in her inimitable accents. On the way out, I took a 
picture of the "WELCOME to the Gogarth Abbey Hotel" 
sign hanging over a sulky little Alice statue. At least part of 
the owner's crankiness is because Anne Clark Amor, in one 
of her books, described Penmorfa as a "Victorian folly". All I 
can say is, if that's how they treat people at the Gogarth 
Abbey, it's no wonder Dodgson never stayed there. 

The rest of the day went smoothly: no one got lost, 
and everyone was nice to us. We visited the village of St. 
George, which has (Alice's cousin) Lady Florentia Liddell 
Hughes's coat of arms inside the church, and her grave 
outside. This is a very charming, simple stone building built 
around 1 893 upon the site of several really ancient churches. 
Florentia lived on her husband's estate, Kinmel, just down 
the road, which has been through a few incarnations since 
her day, and is now a Christian retreat. There was one on in 
full swing, but the managers were quite pleasant and gave us 
full run of the place. (Take that, Gogarth Abbey!) We then 
moved on to Bodelwyddan, a former stately home and a 
current outpost of the National Portrait Gallery. This was my 
favorite stop of the day, mostly because it is very heartening 
to see an old building that has been beautifully restored. 
Myra and Alan had prepared a guide, "What's Watts", to the 
Bodelwyddan Hall of Fame. Many of Watts's subjects in this 
gallery were friends, associates, or at least contemporaries of 
Carroll: Watts, Browning, Lord Salisbury, Crane, Millais, 
Tennyson, Rossetti, and the list goes on. Except for the Hall, 
galleries were set up like living rooms, so we could see the 
pictures in a less formal setting. The redecoration owed a lot 


to the spirit of William Morris. This is a delightful place, well 
worth a visit. 

After that, we rushed off to the Empire, to get ready 
for the evening program. We had three presentations. The 
first, by Canon Ivor Davies, was so amazing that I dropped 
my pen, and simply gaped in slack-jawed admiration. His 
subject was "The Man Who Nearly Wrote Alice". He opened 
with two remarkable quotes: "Down, down, down. Would the 
fall never come to an end?" and "She takes me by the hand 
and softly whispers. ..we were near the center of the earth." 
He said that there were two Welsh clergymen who were 
fascinated with the underworld, "and I don't mean Michael 
Vine and myself. He told us about the luckless Thomas 
Vaughan, who was ejected from his living in the 1750s for 
being "a common drunkard, a swearer, a useless creature, a 
whoremaster" and, worst of all perhaps, "incontinent." Then 
there was Henry Vaughan, who studied alchemy, and died as 
a result of an experiment gone wrong. Poor Thomas seemed 
to be more a victim of politics than anything else. He did write 
a fantastic tale about an underworld, cast in the form of a 
dream. There is a region of "inexpressible obscurity", and he 
is a wanderer, with a young girl, Thalia, as his guide. With 
Thalia, he visits the source of the Nile, and sees a crocodile 
with golden scales. There is a little, low door, and a hedgehog 
creeps out. Davies mentioned that the drawing of Thalia 
looked just like Ellen Terry. He talked about another tale, 500 
years before Vaughan, in which a young girl disappears down 
a rabbit hole. At any rate, Vaughan seems to have felt about 
Thalia the same way Carroll felt about Alice (or Mrs. Liddell! ! !) 
Vaughan even uses the "white stone" motif as a mark for an 
unusually pleasant occurrence. There is no way this brief 
mention can do justice to Canon Davies' s fascinating talk, 
with themes that are universal. It deserves to be reprinted in 
its entirety. 

Charlie Lovett talked about "Lewis Carroll and the 
Press", which he said was "shameless pluggery" for his latest 
book of the same title. He described, in the third person, the 
delightful experience of going to The British Library and 
rampaging through the newspapers. He told us about Carroll's 
letters to the editor, and mentioned that Carroll crossed swords 
in print with Millicent Garret Fawcett, the great feminist whose 
portrait we had seen earlier at Bodelwyddan. Carroll also had 
some material published in the (Boston) Girls' Latin School 
paper, wonderfully named The Jabberwock. We know this 
because someone sent Charlie a few copies, perfectly 
preserved! These astonishing rarities produced a hum of 
delight (and a few squeaks of anguish from Selwyn). Our last 
speaker was the charming Muriel Ratcliffe, who I think is 
badly needed at the Gogarth Abbey. Muriel is the proprietress 
of "The Rabbit Hole" in Llandudno, which educates the public 
about Alice, and, incidentally, sells great Alice stuff. "You 
see before you a grandmother who operates a rabbit hole." 
A W was her favorite book as a child, and she played Alice in 
the school play. She also observed that, "If you went to a 
fancy dress party as Alice in Wonderland, you always won 
the prize." She loves promoting Alice. The drawing was held 
and the organizers must have believed, like the Dodo, that we 

all should have a prize, because there were lots of good ones. 
After dinner we had the toast by Myra Campbell, the speech 
about goodness knows what by Michael Vine (it was very 
funny, though), and the Chairman's (Mark Richards) closing 
remarks. Alan White then hopped up and thanked Mark for 
all his hard work, and Ivor for writing seven books for the 

The next morning we went to St. George's Church, 
another Liddell haunt. The rector, the Rev. Canon Philip 
Cousins, welcomed us. One of his texts was Luke 15. He 
mentioned that Jesus liked to use triple examples to make his 
point, and Lewis Carroll once wrote "What I tell you three 
times is true" in the Snark. 

We then went to the St. Tudno, where Alice once 
stayed as a child, where we had coffee and tea. Janette Bland, 
whose sister has the Empire, owns this beautiful hotel. Their 
brochure is enlivened with pictures of Alice and her friends 
from Wonderland, and a quote from Carroll: "One of the deep 
secrets of life is that all that is really worth the doing is what 
we do for others." 

Next, we walked along to The Rabbit Hole, where 
we met Muriel again and "Miss Alice Llandudno 1 999". She 
is a poised and polite young lady named Melissa Robinette, 
who, when she grows up, should take over the Gogarth Abbey. 
We toured the underground settings from Wonderland, 
bought several important bits of Aliciana we could not live 
without, and generally enjoyed ourselves. 

After lunch we said our good-byes, picking up a 
copy of the Llandudno Advertiser to read on the way home. 
The Lewis Carroll Society made the cover, in a way. The front 
page featured a large photo of the Gogarth Abbey, and the 
confident statement that the LCS would certainly spend time 
there! A remarkable color photo, of people I had never seen 
before in my life, dressed up in Alice in Wonderland costumes, 
apparently having a terrific time, was inserted into the 
Gogarthian landscape. So, the town council will believe, after 
all, that the LCS appeared in fancy dress in Llandudno. 

Even though I didn't get to dress up like the Red 
Queen, I did have a wonderful time. I would like to thank Alan 
and Myra and Mark and Catherine and Ivor not just for the 
successful meeting, but for making all of us feel so much a 
part of the Society - especially this newcomer. 


Cindy has gotten her wish. "The Man that Nearly Wrote 
Alice" has been printed in Llandersnatch, a special edition 
o/Bandersnatch. Also available is Alice's Welsh Wonderland 
by Ivor Wynne Jones (0-9503359-4-0, 18 pages, illustrated) 
Contact Mark Richards at 50 Lauderdale Mansions, 
Lauderdale Road, London, W9 1NE, England. You can send 
£2. 30 for the former and £2. 90 for the latter, which includes 
airmail postage. He will take U.S. $4 or $5, respectively, or 
$8 for the set. Make checks (or cheques) to the Lewis Carroll 



Our Reputation Precedes Us 

In the official program of the American Library 
Association's 1999 conference held in New Orleans the final 
week of June, August Imholtz noticed an entry for the session 
"A Child's Garden: Literary Societies about Children's Books" 
and decided to attend even if it meant having to skip the 
Federal Documents Task Force Steering Group Meeting. 
August was prepared to say a few words about our Society, 
but that task was ably handled by Ms Angelica Carpenter, 
the new curator of the Arne Nixon Center for the Study of 
Children's at the California State University at Fresno, who 
delivered a splendid illustrated lecture on the British Lewis 
Carroll Society and the Lewis Carroll Society of North 
America. After a stirring talk about the Freddie the Pig Society 
(actually named "Friends of Freddie") August did take the 
microphone to mention our Maxine Schaefer Children's 
Outreach Program, which generated much interest in the 
audience of librarians and children's literature specialists. 

I couldn't have put it better myself 

M.S. Venkatarman, writing in The Hindu, April 10, 
1999, under the headline "Chortle and galumph with Carroll" 
composed a brief biography which is rather a delight. Some 
excerpts follow: 

"Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) was 
born in Richmond in 1832. He was the third of 1 1 children, 
seven of whom were girls. His stammer, his left handedness, 
his partial deafness and his recluse nature, might have 
contributed to his complex personality. He was however, 
uninhibited in the company of the bevy of the little girls 
around him. . . After the Richmond Grammar School, where he 
developed a taste for Mathematics, he joined Rugby School. 
A total misfit there, he spent most of the time writing 
impositions. . . He invented the story as he rambled, sent the 
heroine tumbling down the rabbit hole, made her shoot up or 
shrink. . . He invited John Denniel, the Cartoonist of 'Punch' 
to make a better job out of it. These illustrations of John 
Denniel continue to adorn the editions till date. . . When Alice 
is in the Rabbit House, she wonders "Who am I? Am I Ada or 
am I Mabel? She is she and I am I". The rambling goes on. It 
sounds ridiculous. Yet there seems a tinge of Dvaita-Advaita 
controversy of Hinduism injected there... A rib-tickling 
parody of "You are old, Father William" of Walter Southey by 
Alice is one such piece. All the stanzas borrow the first line 
from the original, but then the craze starts... "Alice in 
Wonderland" had been parodied as "Malice in Blunder Land". 
It had been made into a musical opera, cartooned, filmed and 
televised. Its authorship had been questioned. Mark Twain 
had been dubbed the real author. 'The initials MT and SC 
appear on the "five of spades" in one of the pictures drawn. 
This refers to Mark Twain - Samuel Clemens.' The MT and 
SC were erased in the later edition of the book. The truth may 
be revealed possibly in the year 2006 A.D. when Carroll's 

papers will be made public. Carroll had also been accused of 
plagiarisation from a book From Nowhere to North Pole. It 
seems however that this book was released four years after 
the first edition of Alice in Wonderland... Carroll became 
morose and irritable in later years. He developed depression 
as well. Yet his humour would appear now and then. Even the 
theme of death produced its own brand of macabre humour. 
Carroll had an acute attack of bronchitis at Guildford. He 
breathed his last on January 14, 1 898." 

I've Got A Song to Singh-O! 

According to a bulletin from AP Worldstream, July 
27, 1999, the highlight of an annual meeting on regional 
security in Singapore, attended by U.S. Secretary of State 
Madeleine Albright and other diplomats, was a recitation by 
Indian Foreign Minister Jaswant Singh recasting "You are 
old, Father William" as a spoof of India's massive military 
campaign against Pakistan. 

Has anyone tried the Tulgey Wood? 

According to London's Sunday Mirror, September 
5, 1999, the Jabberwock is missing! The 14-inch model of the 
monster made for Terry Gilliam's film Jabberwocky was lent 
to an exhibition in Hayle, Cornwall, by armourer Terry English. 
He said: "Someone obviously saw it and came back in the 
small hours, broke in and stole it. It is unique, you could 
never sell it. It's fairly hideous, a sort of half dragon, half 
chicken with tusks, scarred veiny wings and a big beak." 

Ravings from the Writing Desk 

of Stephanie Stoffel 

I am even more excited than usual about getting to 
see all you Carrollians at our next meeting. I have been having 
far too much fun lately, and when we come together this 
October, in Toronto, you will too. In recent weeks, I've been 
involved with the final stages of our 25th anniversary booklet, 
and you will each have your own copy to enjoy in Toronto, 
or if you have to miss it, shortly thereafter. I can't tell you 
how delightful it has been to read what our founding and 
other key members have written about a quarter-century of 
LCSNA activities. All of you, whether old-timers or brand- 
new members will cherish this booklet that is part history, 
part souvenir, and part love-letter. 

You have another special publication already in your 
hands. The board of the LCSNA had been talking about doing 
a nice little illustrated edition of Carroll's comic piece La Guida 
da Bragia, which you can still look forward to seeing. 
However, in discussing what a shame it is that this funny 
parody of Br adshaw 's Railway Guide is so hard to come by, 
we felt it would be a simple and pleasant service to make it 
more widely available, especially to those not interested in 
collectors' editions, by means of the Knight Letter. This is a 
new and interesting use of the KL, and we hope you find it to 
be a worthwhile and appropriate one. 

Finally, please put an exclamation point on your 
calendars for April 15, 2000. You need to have your taxes in 
before then so that you can be in New York City for our 
Spring meeting! We have a fascinating program already lined 
up - come to Toronto and I'll tell you all about it! 





A June 25 th ceremony and party inaug- 
urated a 2,300 square foot permanent 
exhibit of AW at the "Please Touch 
Museum" in Philadelphia. It is described 
as "an interactive, playful environment 
which offers creative learning oppor- 
tunities" for children. The exhibit was 
made possible by a grant from the NEH, 
and also displays much of Kitty Mine- 
hart's Carrolliana. Call them at 2 1 5 . 963 . 
0667 or www.pleasetouch museum, com. 

The Rosenbach Museum and Library 
in Philadelphia is showing "The Works 
of A.B.Frost" from June 22 through 
September 26. Information: 215.732. 
1600. Their website (www.rosenbach. 
org) also has a good essay on ABF's 
relationship with CLD. 

On April 24, the Lewis Carroll collection 
of the late Carol Stoops Droessler was 
bequeathed to Longwood College in 
Farmville, Virginia and a scholarship 
fund was set up in her name. Carol was 
a longtime LCSNA member whose 
presence is still very much missed (see 
AX 58 for an obituary). 

The Family Museum of Arts and 
Sciences in Bettendorf, IL "allows visit- 
ors to live out AW fantasies by 
disappearing into a rabbit hole to experi- 
ment with motion and color." 

"Through the Looking-Glass" (photo- 
graphy) at the Newhouse Center for 
Contemporary Art on Staten Island 
through October 3. 

"LC at Oxford: the Centenary Con- 
ference", an illustrated lecture to be 
presented on October 1 5th by Angelica 
Carpenter, curator for the soon-to-be- 
opened Arne Nixon Center for the Study 
of Childrens' Literature at California 
State University, Fresno, coincides with 
the Fresno Metropolitan Museum's 
hosting of the traveling "Reflections in 
a Looking Glass" exhibition (29 
September- 2 1 November). RSVP to the 
lecture at 559.278.2403; museum 
information: 559.44 1 . 1 444 or www.fresno 

"Julia Margaret Cameron's Women" at 
the San Francisco Museum of Modern 
Art, August 26 - November 30 includes 
her famous study of APL as "Pomona". 



Karen Hartman's Alice: Tales of a Cur- 
ious Girl played at Thick Description at 
the New Langton Arts in San Francisco, 
June 19 th - July 1 1 th . This is the second 
production of this avant-garde play (see 
Stephanie's review in KL 60, p. 5, of the 
Dallas production). This presentation 
featured gender- and race-blind casting 
(making for a fabulous comic turn by a 
large, muscular black "Queen" of 
Hearts). The ensemble was quite energ- 
etic and talented, but severely lacking 
in singing ability. Fun was had by all. - 

The New York Fringe Festival in late 
August contained "Alice's Tea Party" 
by Matilda Kunin, in which Little Bo 
Peep wanders into Wonderland and 
meets many of the characters (but not 

AW (a puppet play) at the Studio 
Theatre, Hong Kong Cultural Centre, 
July 18. 

The New Jersey Shakespeare Festival 
presented the world premiere of "Won- 
derland (and what was found there)", 
conceived and directed by Brian B. 
Crowe, which "employed the use of 
masks, puppetry and innovative visual 
effects to unearth the darker realm 
buried beneath A W\ July and August. 


11 A W: A Classic for Kids and Collectors" 
by Roy Nuhn in Country Victorian #22. 

"Beyond Wonderland: The Mathe- 
matics of Lewis Carroll" by S. I.B.Gray 
in Math Horizons, April '99, published 
by the Mathematical Association of 
America, is a friendly overview of CLD 's 
work, from Euclid to his word games. 

"Down the rabbit hole" by Jeff Jacoby 
in the Boston Globe II \ 199 is a summary 
of AW, its history and "meaning". 

"To Preserve and Protect" by Claiborne 
Smith in the A ustin Chronicle, February 
27 - March 5, 1998, discusses the pre- 
serving, conserving, and restoring of 


priceless texts at UT's Humanities 
Research Center, incuding Warren 
Weaver's copy of the 1 865 AW found in 
a bookstall in India. Also online at http:/ 
/ 1 II 
issue25/books. conservation.html. 

The October issue of American Theater 
is scheduled to have an article about 
theatrical productions of A W. 

Quimera - Revista de Literatura, No. 
175, Dec. 1998 (Barcelona) has a large 
section devoted to CLD as a logician. 

"Suit Illuminates the Dark Side of 
Cartoon Characters" by Ann O'Neill in 
the Los Angeles Times, July 25, 1999, 
says that a court-ordered study was 
undertaken of the smoking and drinking 
habits of the two-dimensional stars of 
animated films, including the "hookah- 
sucking caterpillar in A W\ Yoon Soo Ha, 
who sued in the public interest, seeks 
an injunction ordering Disney to issue 
warnings at the beginning and end of 
the films. 

"NPL Meets the Jabberwocky: Natural 
Language Processing in Information 
Retrieval" by Susan Feldman, Online, 
May 1999, vol. 23, no. 3. [One might 
think that a linguist could distinguish 
a poem 's title from the name of a 


Bloomsbury Book Auctions of London 
holds an auction every two weeks. In 
June, for instance, they auctioned a very 
rare set of CLD pamphlets. Stay in touch 
with them at www.bloomsbury-book- or get on their mailing list: 3 & 
4 Hardwick Street, London EC 1 R 4RY 
England, +44 020 7 833 2636. 


What the Dormouse Said : Lessons for 
Grown-Ups from Children's Books, 
compiled by Amy Gash and illustrated 
by Pierre Le-Tan is collection of over 
three hundred quotations from the best- 
loved children's books of all time 
including A W, organized by topics, to 
be published in October by Algonquin 
Books; 1565122410. 

In Manly Pursuits (Bloomsbury 
Pounds, 1582340196) by Ann Harries, 
eminent Victorians mix with fictional 

creations in a ripping yarn set in South 
Africa and London. Kipling, Ruskin, 
Wilde, and Dodgson, among others, take 
part in a comic narrative that shuttles 
between England and South Africa in 
the late 19th century. Alice Liddell is 
portrayed on the colorful cover of a 
book embracing ornithology, the Boer 
War, Darwinism, colonialism, mascu- 
linity, honor and betrayal, and science. 

Between Silk & Cyanide: a 
Codemaker 's War (The Free Press: 
Simon & Schuster, 0684864223) by Leo 
Marks, a noted cryptographer and son 
of the owner of the bookstore at 84 
Charing Cross Road, details his 
adventures during World War II and his 
dealings with secret agents, most 
notably one called "The White Rabbit". 

In the Shadow of the Dreamchild: A 
New Understanding of Lewis Carroll 
by Karoline Leach, Dufour Editions, 
07206 1 0443 , will prepare members for her 
upcoming address of our Society, 
wherein she will defend her insolite 
imputation of an alleged affair between 
CLD and the senior Lorina Liddell. 

The Book of Guinness Advertising, by 
Guinness Media Inc., Jim Davies, ed., 
0851120679, contains a page on the 
"Alice" campaign. 

AW, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury due 
from Candlewick Press in November; 

A W, illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger due 
from North South Books in October; 

Dodgson At Auction, announced in KL 
60, p.22, is in the final stages of pro- 
duction. A flyer is enclosed with this 
issue. 10% of sales to our members will 
be donated to the Maxine Schaefer fund. 

The Once upon a Time Map Book : Your 
Guide to the Enchanted Forest, the 
Giant s Kingdom, Neverland, the Land 
of Oz, Aladdin's Kingdom, and 
Wonderland by B. G. Hennessy and 
Peter Joyce (illustrator), Candlewick 
Press, 0763600768. Also a calendar. 


"American McGee's Alice", "a dark and 
twisted 3D-action adaptation" by 
Electronic Arts at 
Macromedia Flash 4 is required. 

An hour-long adaptation by "Seeing Ear 
Theater" features Lili Taylor as Alice. 
You can see the animated mixed-media 
with RealPlayer's G2, or just you can 
listen to it in the background while 
doing other tasks, 
set/or iginals/al ice/. 

"James Joyce: Making Sense" by 
Sameer Doshi at http://www.fas. 
joyce.htm discusses LC's influence. 

Mark Richards has redesigned the home 
page for the LCS (U.K.) and is happy to 
receive comments and suggestions. 
homepages/ Aztec/LC S . htm . 

LC's influence on the Beatles' oeuvre is 
discussed at http://users.cnmnetwork 

Ever wonder how A W would read if she 
were a modern English "goth"? See 

Online A W games for children from the 
Rosenbach at http://www.rosenbach 

Art and Artifacts 

Notecards with the inscription "All that 
matters is what we do for each other - 
Lewis Carroll" from Paper Lantern, P O 
Box 1 87 1 , Boyes Hot Springs, CA 954 1 6, 
707.996.0302. $15/dozen. 

The British Library is capitalizing on 
Carroll's original drawings for Alice 's 
Adventures under Ground by 
producing mugs, stationery, address 
books, calendars, magnets, and so on. 
A mail order catalogue is now available 
on request to or 
The British Library at St Pancras, 96 
Euston Road, London NW1 2DB, 
England. See also 

For Disney collectors, a new line of 
miniature painted resin figures, called 
"Tiny Kingdom" includes several AW 
characters ($6); they have also 
repackaged their seldom-seen Barbie™- 
style Alice doll from their "Fairytale" 

Follow the "Psychedelic" link at http:// to find #25296 
"Eat Me" and #27302 "Mushroom". 

Toy Vault announces a cold cast resin 
"action figure" line called "The Other 

Side of the Looking-Glass". Their first 
figure is a quite frightening and 
"realistic" 5" Jabberwock. http:// 

"The Mme Alexander Alice series also 
has a Humpty whose head is, appar- 
ently, in his stomach, and a Cheshire 
Cat with a bright pink face and a pink 
and Lurex™ striped sweater. Kind of 
early David Bowie." - Cindy Watter. 

Tenniel drawings very tastefully 
reproduced in plain or gold-plated 
pewter as earrings, brooches, belt 
buckles, pins, mugs and pendants from 
the Bergamot Collection at http:// 
htm; Bergamot, 820 Wisconsin Street, 
Delavan,WI531 15-1416; 800.922.6733; 
bergamot@bergamot-usa. com. sells Donna Derstine's Humpty 
Dumpty posters and two of Tenniel 
drawings with text at http:// 

A CD of "Jabberwocky" by Clive Nolan 
and Oliver Wakeman (Rick's son) - "an 
album, which bridges across the power 
and the glory of symphonic rock into 
the immediacy and infectious nature of 
the musical... {also features} eye- 
catching artwork" from Verglas Music, 
PO Box 19, Virginia Water, GU25 4 YE, 
index.htm; +44 (0)1344 845873. 

Alice encounters the Queen of Hearts 
on a jigsaw puzzle created for children 3 
and up from Mudpuppy (www.mud Or through a store - ISBN 

A video consisting of a charming 
animation of The Hunting of the Snark 
(featuring the voice of James Earl 
Jones), "Jabberwocky" and a brief life 
of CLD, will be released in October by 
First Run Features, 153 Waverly Place, 
New York, NY 10014; 1-800-229-8575. 
This tape has long been unavailable, 
and is a 27-minute joyride - Michael 
Sporn's stylized animation is imagin- 
ative and appropriate, and there are 
some interesting speculations in the bio 
section about CLD's mindset in relation 
to the new belfry when he set out to 
write the Snark. $15. 


For help in preparing this issue thanks are due to: Fran Abeles, Gary Brockman, Sandor Burstein, Llisa Demetrios 

Johanna Hurwitz, August Imholtz, Stan Isaacs, Janet Jurist, Lucille Posner, Bea Sidaway, Alan Tannenbaum, and Cindy 


Knight Letter is the official newsletter of the Lewis Carroll Society of North America. It is published several times a year 

and is distributed free to all members. Subscriptions, business correspondence, and inquiries should be addressed to 

the Secretary, 18 Fitzharding Place, Owing Mills MD 21 1 17. Annual membership dues are U.S. $20 (regular) and $50 

(sustaining). Submissions and editorial correspondence should be sent to the Editor, Box 2006, Mill Valley CA 94942. 

President: Stephanie Stoffel, Secretary: Ellie Luchinsky, 

Editor: Mark Burstein, 
Lewis Carroll Society of North America Home Page: 
The Lewis Carroll Home Page: